


Devil in Disguise

by luckysilverbell



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 01:22:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3591042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckysilverbell/pseuds/luckysilverbell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Les Mis Kink Meme.</p><p>Enjolras, being super pretty and youthful-looking, meets an older man who is interested in him, but very conservative. He gets into a "sugar daddy" sort of relationship, where he enters into a sexual relationship with the man in exchange for the man giving him fancy presents and spending money. Little does his "daddy" know, the money goes into the revolution, whether it's canon era, where he buys Enjolras a gun for hunting that's used for soldiers, or modern au where Enjolras auctions off his fancy jewelry for charity or uses his new car as a getaway vehicle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Contrary to what his (he was hesitant to use the term) boyfriend seemed to think, Percy was not an idiot. True, he didn't have the faintest idea what Enjolras was up to when he disappeared for days at a time, but given the fact that these disappearances usually occurred after the blond was presented with an unusually pricey gift, Percy had his suspicions.

First, there were the diamonds.

Percy knew Enjolras wasn't an airhead, despite the blond's attempts to convince him otherwise. The attempts had worked for about two weeks after they first hooked up, leaving Percy convinced that he was currently screwing the most inhumanly beautiful dumbass in all of France. Had he been the type to resort to pick-up lines, he would modify one of the classics to inquire as to whether or not this particular angel had hit his head when he fell from heaven.

So, needless to say, when Percy walked into the nearest coffee shop on his way home, the last thing he'd expected to see was his beautiful, seemingly brain-dead boy-toy loudly and passionately debating the finer points of some human rights crisis that Percy vaguely remembered hearing mentioned on the news earlier that week. He stood in the doorway for a moment, mesmerized by Enjolras' ringing voice and the fluid movements of his body as he turned to counter each argument made against him. And as he shot down each rebuttal without so much as pausing for breath, Percy was seized by the strangest feeling of awe; not at Enjolras' verbal prowess, but at the realization that this beautiful boy had _played him_. Not ten hours ago, this same boy had sprawled dramatically on the couch, begging him to turn the morning news off because it was so **_boring,_** _Percy, no one watches this crap but my grandfather, why can’t we watch a movie, do you have to go to your meeting today, I want some fries, blah blah blah._

Percy was just now realizing that, based on the angle he was taking with his arguments, the only reason Enjolras hadn’t wanted to watch the news was due to the political views of the station. Clearly, he was more inclined towards that soup-kitchen-women’s-rights-welfare-kumbaya crap.

He knew he should be offended or, at the very least, suspicious, but something about this recent turn of events only endeared Enjolras to him more. If this beautiful creature wanted to play political activist by day, but be a submissive, spoiled, moronic fairy at home, then who was Percy to deny him that? Maybe it was a kink of his. It wouldn’t be that much of a stretch to assume he got off on being treated like a gorgeous airhead, and if part of the fantasy was having Percy genuinely believe he was that dim, he wasn’t about to spoil it.

It was almost an entire month before he realized his mistake.

The diamonds had been a spur-of-the-moment idea. Percy knew for a fact that he was not falling for Enjolras in any way, but when he’d seen the bracelet in the store window, he hadn’t been able to get the image of his feisty little bedwarmer wearing it out of his mind. However, something about Enjolras’ reaction seemed… off. He’d expected the blond to be thrilled, or at least grateful for the gift, but something in his eyes had darkened when Percy mentioned the €10,000 he’d spent on it.

“Something wrong, baby?” Percy asked, finding himself slightly unnerved.

And suddenly, Enjolras was himself again. “No, nothing,” he replied. “It’s so beautiful! Are they real? Can I wear it?” He’d giggled when Percy fastened the bracelet around his slim wrist, and gasped as he twisted and turned his hand so the diamonds could catch the light. “I love it! Oh Percy, you spoil me! I’m never gonna take it off!”

Percy had intended to comment on the scrutinous expression that first graced his features, and perhaps Enjolras knew this too, because no sooner had Percy opened his mouth, he suddenly found himself with a lapful of over-eager blond, positively _begging_ for a chance to show his gratitude. And Percy was never one to turn down a blowjob.

Fifteen minutes later, he’d put the incident out of his mind.

That Friday, Percy sat on the couch with Enjolras, watching the evening news. He hadn’t heard a word of complaint since he’d switched news stations, and could only assume this particular show coincided more with the blond’s political affiliations. It was nearing the end of the hour when the reporter mentioned the €10,000 anonymously sent to a local women’s shelter, and Percy felt, rather than saw, the change in Enjolras’ position. Out the corner of his eye, he could see the self-satisfied grin and those blue eyes focused, unblinking, on the screen as the reporter mentioned a protest earlier that day.

In that moment, Percy noticed two things: One, Enjolras looked absolutely _devious_ with that gleam in his eye. And two, to his utter disbelief, the bracelet was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Percy was careful not to mention the diamonds. It could have been a coincidence. Nothing he’d heard in Enjolras’ debate had suggested he would donate all the money he got from selling the bracelet (if that was really what he’d done) to a _women’s shelter,_ of all places. Even if the boy _was_ absurdly liberal, even _he_ had to realize the money would all be wasted on tampons and lipstick and magazines at a place like that.

Besides, all his comments about being “so forgetful” and wanting to “keep it safe” could very well be true, and the diamonds could be resting on the bedside table at Enjolras’ apartment, just like he claimed. That, and it was very hard to focus on one missing bracelet when he had Enjolras squirming and clenching around his cock, making the most delicious noises as he mouthed at the underside of Percy’s jaw. No, one little bracelet was hardly important, and he was more than willing to replace it with others by the end of the night.

The car, however, was a different story.

They had began referring to it as “Enjolras’ car” awhile ago, since Percy rarely drove it anyways, and both agreed the blue exterior perfectly matched Enjolras’ eyes. But the title was in Percy’s name, and Enjolras still remembered to ask permission before taking it anywhere. And Percy was infinitely more inclined to say ‘yes’ when the request wasn’t made in words.

He was still reeling from one of the most intense orgasms of his life when he heard the engine start.

It was three days before he saw Enjolras again. He’d tried calling numerous times, but each time, the call had gone to voicemail. Every time the tinny female voice sounded through his phone, Percy made a mental note to have Enjolras record an actual voicemail greeting.

_‘You have reached_ _07-34-68-43-01. At the tone, please record your message. When you are finished recording, hang up, or press one for more options.’_

On the third night, Percy was half asleep when he heard the telltale rumbling of the engine in the driveway. And while he would never confess to the speed at which he shot out of bed and pulled on his robe, had anyone somehow seen him barreling down the stairs, he would have been quick to inform them that it wasn’t _Enjolras_ he was concerned about. The car was worth at least half a million euros off the lot, and the last thing he needed was for the stupid blond to ruin the resale value after a night of partying.

“Where the _hell_ have you been?!” were the first words out of his mouth, shortly followed by, “What happened to your face?”

On anyone else, Percy wouldn’t have considered the damage extensive. Enjolras was sporting a split lip and the faintest hints of a bruise blossoming beneath his left eye. Hardly anything to be concerned about, but on his otherwise flawless pet, they stood out vivid in the harsh glow of the porchlight.

“It’s nothing, Percy,” Enjolras muttered, voice slightly rough and vastly different than the demure simpering Percy had come to expect. “May I come in?”

“It doesn’t _look_ like nothing,” Percy replied, standing aside nonetheless. “Where were you?”

Enjolras made a beeline for the fridge, tossing the car keys on the marble countertop as he went. “I was visiting friends in Avignon, like I told you,” he said shortly, pulling a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and pressing them gingerly to his face.

“Did these friends enter you in a boxing match?” Percy asked sarcastically, “Or were you mugged?”

“Neither,” Enjolras replied. “We went out for drinks, and there was a man who wouldn’t leave us alone. I may have said a few harsh words to him, and he got a few blows in before someone managed to pull him off of me.”

Percy arched an eyebrow suspiciously. “And the car?”

“The car is fine,” was the short reply. “As always.” The demure look was back on his face, or at least the half that wasn’t covered by the frozen vegetable bag. “I know better than to get so much as a scratch on it.”

Percy held his gaze for a moment, then sighed and extended his arm. “Come here.”

Enjolras’ expression faltered slightly. “Actually, I just came by to return the car,” he said slowly. “And to ask if you’d give me a ride home?”

Percy did not retract his arm. “You’ve been gone for three days, and you want to sleep alone?” he said, smile hardening. “Come here.”

“I really don’t—”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Had he been a lesser man, Percy would have smirked at the way Enjolras approached him; eyes downturned and shoulders hunched in submission. But a lesser man would not have been able to control such a willful boy in the first place, and the last thing he wanted was his _willful boy_ thinking he could pull a three-day vanishing act in that car and get off scot-free.

“Something wrong with your phone?” he asked, and Enjolras looked up from his staring contest with the floor, confused.

“No. Why?”

“No service in Avignon, then?” Percy asked. “I called you over fifty times.”

Enjolras shifted his weight from one foot to the other, a trait Percy noticed every time the boy was feeling guilty. “Oh.”

 _“Oh,”_ Percy repeated. “The next time I call you, you had better answer. _Especially,_ ” he emphasized, “when you’re out on a day trip in _my_ car.”

“I’m sorry,” the blond whimpered. “Percy, I didn’t mean for—”

“Enough of your whining,” Percy snapped, and Enjolras fell silent. “Go upstairs and get in the shower. Then you can show me how sorry you are.” Wordlessly, Enjolras nodded, his curls falling in his face with the vigorous movement of his head. “I’ll be up in five minutes.”

The younger boy took off running for the stairs, and Percy ran his hand down his face as he heard the bedroom door slam. He’d said five minutes, but knew his pet would wait for however long it took to properly inspect the car.

All things considered, he thought as he stepped outside, the car looked to be alright. It was filthy; caked with mud and grime and other gunk, but it wouldn’t be all that difficult to convince Enjolras to wash it.

Percy was halfway turned to return to the house when he noticed the small blue-white-and-red pin lying on the driveway.


End file.
